Toshiko wondered what the consort was like and if His Majesty would now forget her. The next morning brought the summons for them to present themselves, and she dressed carefully, not for His Majesty this time, but for her first official duty as a lady-in-waiting to his consort.
When she finally laid eyes on Her Majesty, she was struck with admiration. The consort was much younger than she had expected, having foolishly assumed that she must be His Majesty’s age. She looked in every way exquisite, being small and dainty of stature, with a charmingly round face and thick, lustrous hair. The Chinese jacket she wore was of crimson silk, embroidered with golden chrysanthemums, and her gowns of beaten silk gauze were layered in shades of autumn leaves and old rose petals. Even among her beautifully dressed ladies-in-waiting, she glowed like the rarest flower in a stunning painting.
Toshiko, who had dressed in the darker hues of the wintry season, was amazed at the color and spectacle before her. Since the previous spring, her days had been spent in the semi-darkness of the women’s quarters among other ladies who had been forgotten by the great world.
Until now.
Her Majesty’s arrival had brought a number of high-ranking young men to the cloister palace, and music and laughter sounded in the corridors and from the pavilions.
When Toshiko, as the newest member of Her Majesty’s ladies, was called forward to make her obeisance, Lady Sanjo, seated behind the consort, leaned forward to murmur something to her mistress. Toshiko’s heart beat fearfully as she bowed, but the Consort was very courteous, asking about her home and what amused her. She found her voice and talked about singing and dancing imayo. To her relief, the moment was over quickly, and she could slip back behind the last row of ladies where nobody noticed her.
In the days that followed she was gradually drawn into the merry-making around Her Majesty. Many of the ladies played the zither and lute, and others could respond to poems with clever twists on words. She was too ignorant to participate in such activities. Her education in such skills had been sadly neglected. To her relief, nobody asked her to sing or dance, but she listened to others and took pleasure in their skills. It suited her to be thus left in peace. Sometimes she played board games with the others and enjoyed herself with the pure delight of a child, and she read avidly all the new romances that were passed around.
One day, His Majesty appeared suddenly in their midst. Toshiko immediately hid behind a screen. He had not called for her since his consort’s arrival, and she was embarrassed to be seen by him.
His Majesty directed a servant to unpack several elegant boxes of books, his gift to his consort and her ladies. The books were filled with illustrated tales, and when he showed them around, the ladies gathered, crying out in admiration at the pictures of dainty, colorful figures who moved fairylike among clouds of gold dust through landscapes filled with lakes, waterfalls, mountains, and elegant pavilions.
Unable to restrain her curiosity, Toshiko crept out to catch a glimpse. His Majesty saw her immediately.
“Ah, I see Lady Toshiko is here,” he said to the consort. “I am glad you have made her welcome. She arrived only recently and from outside the capital. As you know, we are very quiet here in your absence, and I am sure she has been leading a sadly dull life until now.”
Her Majesty’s eyes searched the room for Toshiko, who had frozen in her place, wishing she could disappear like a drop of dew in the sun. “She is still very young,” the consort said without enthusiasm. “Something out of the ordinary, would you say?”
“Oh, yes.” The emperor’s mouth twitched with secret amusement as he looked at Toshiko. “Quite out of the ordinary. Has she sung and danced for you yet? Lady Toshiko is adept at imayo. As a matter of fact, she has been a great help to me with my collection.”
There was a small noise, something like a snort. All eyes turned to Lady Sanjo who coughed delicately into her sleeve, and bowed to His Majesty. “Please forgive my rude cough, sire. The season has not been kind to me.” Bowing to Her Majesty next, she added, “Indeed, Your Majesty, this young lady has been most accommodating and industrious in her attendance on His Majesty.”
An embarrassed silence followed these words, then the consort said dryly, “I see. In that case, perhaps she should be assigned new quarters, sire?”
The emperor flushed and waved that aside with an impatient gesture. “I trust all the ladies are comfortable. Please do not trouble yourself. It does not signify.”
Her Majesty nodded. “As you wish, sire.”
New quarters? Toshiko was uncomfortably aware that this exchange somehow involved her position here. She looked to Lady Sanjo for an answer and saw that she wore the expression of a purring cat.
Ashamed without knowing why, she drew away even more. But the Emperor was watching her as the books passed around.
“Lady Toshiko,” he called to her, “are you familiar with the Tale of the Bamboo Cutter?”
“I think so, sire,” Toshiko said, wishing she had stayed behind the screen.
“The story is about a man who finds a great jewel hidden in a hollow bamboo. It reminds me of you.” He smiled at her, then searched among the books. “Here it is. Come, you must see how fine these illustrations are.” He patted a pillow beside him, and the ladies pulled aside their wide skirts to let Toshiko pass. She came forward, her face burning with embarrassment.
The tale belonged to her childhood. It was the story of an elderly childless couple whose fervent prayers for children were answered when the husband, a humble bamboo cutter, found a shining child inside a hollow bamboo. In their care, this child grew into a luminous beauty known as Princess Moon. She was courted by many great men, even by the emperor himself, but in the end she refused them all because she was immortal and had to leave the world for her celestial abode.
Toshiko had never seen the tale illustrated. As the emperor slowly unrolled the scroll, she saw that it had sections of written text alternating with charming scenes in bright colors. The only paintings in her parents’ house had been her mother’s screens of mountains and a scroll painting of a falcon in her father’s room. Here there was a whole world in miniature, with mansions and gardens filled with people who moved about and who laughed or cried just as you would expect them to do in real life.
“Oh,” she sighed, peering over her fan, “how very beautiful! And how lucky the poor bamboo cutter and his wife were. The princess brought such pleasure into their lonely lives.”
“And to all the gentlemen who saw her,” chuckled the emperor. “Poor gentlemen. She wanted none of them. Not even the emperor. How do you explain that?”
Toshiko did not know what to say. He was close to her and his scent reminded her of the last time she had sat beside him. She blushed and raised her fan.
“She was a divine creature and not of this earth,” said Her Majesty, breaking the awkward silence. “Perhaps it was fair punishment to them for neglecting their own ladies.”
“That had not occurred to me,” said the emperor. “My interpretation has always been that the author was making fun of the inept and dishonest nobles of his day. Apparently he did not think much of his emperor either.”
“Oh, surely not,” cried Lady Sanjo. “He could not have been such a villain. He would have been sent into exile.”
“Not at all. We are not such cruel taskmasters, I hope.” The emperor smiled broadly. “But Lady Sanjo proves that I, too, have my critics. She does not think much of my explanation. Do you have a better one, Lady Sanjo?”
Lady Sanjo flushed. “Oh, no, sire. I am only a foolish woman and thought it just a fairytale.” Then her face brightened and she rose to her feet. “But I am very eager to have Your Majesty explain the true meaning to me.”